Kennedy looked at me and smiled. "Walter," he said, "this is no
place for two old bachelors like us."
Then turning, he added, "Many thanks, sir,--but, seriously, last
night we slept principally in day coaches. Really I must turn the
case over to Burke now and get back to the city to-night early."
They insisted on accompanying us to the station, and there the
congratulations were done all over again.
"Why," exclaimed Kennedy, as we settled ourselves in the Pullman
after waving a final good-bye, "I shall be afraid to go back to
that town again. I--I almost did kiss her!"
Then his face settled into its usual stern lines, although
softened, I thought. I am sure that it was not the New England
landscape, with its quaint stone fences, that he looked at out of
the window, but the recollection of the bright dashing figure of
Gladys Shirley.
It was seldom that a girl made so forcible an impression on
Kennedy, I know, for on our return he fairly dived into work, like
the Z99 herself, and I did not see him all the next day until just
before dinner time.
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